


Batter Up

by trascendenza



Category: Fast and the Furious
Genre: M/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-15
Updated: 2007-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Lemme show you, bro."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Batter Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [porn battle (fourth)](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/317183.html), prompt: jealous ([mirror](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/317183.html?thread=14284543#t14284543)).

"That sweet little mamacita was checking you out, boy."

Brian kept walking without sparing her a glance. "So?"

"So? So she was a hottie. You can't tell me you wasn't checkin' her out, too."

"Nope."

Rome shook his head, but desisted.

"What's really bothering you, bro?" Brian said casually as they entered the parking lot, taking his keys out of his pocket and swinging them around his index finger.

"Nothin'. But you been actin' real funny since that last one dumped you, even for you. You haven't even so much at looked at another one since then. Your balls ain't shriveled up or nothin', have they?"

Brian's mouth quirked. "Why you thinkin' about my balls, Rome?"

Rome scoffed, but as Brian leaned up against the Lancer, he could see the tightness in his friend's neck. _Naw_, he thought to himself, but the bitter part of him that'd had an unrequited crush for way too fucking long now said, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were hot for me."

Brian didn't even have a chance to put on his lopsided "it's all in good fun" joking grin before Rome's forearm was cutting a line across his neck and the rest of him was pinned against the Lancer. He swallowed, remembering how many times this had almost come up since they were kids—in the showers at school, during those wrestling matches that Brian had started with no innocent intentions in mind.

But from the look on Rome's face, they might not be able to laugh this one off.

"Yeah, and I didn't know better, I think you callin' me gay, Brian."

Brian let his lips fall a little farther apart as he exhaled, trying not to smile.

He'd thought he recognized that tightness around Rome's eyes.

"Not at all, dude. See, there's this thing now—if you, you know, decide you wanna join the twenty-first century sometime—called playing for both teams." He slid one of his legs forward so that it rested between Rome's, a risky move, but _fuck_, he wanted it so bad.

And, apparently, from the very hard evidence against his thigh that Rome _was_ a card-carrying member of the twenty-first century, Rome did, too.

_Fuck, all this time I wasted, all this time we could have been_…

Well, no way he was going to waste his opportunity now. He leaned forward and whispered low in Rome's ear, "You should try it sometime."

"Yeah, what for?" But Rome didn't move away, and Brian could feel Rome's shallow breathing against his chest.

Brian used his leg to do the convincing that words wouldn't, sliding his thigh fast and just right against Rome's erection, opening the back door of the Lancer with his left hand. Rome's eyelids fluttered when he slipped two fingers inside his friend's waistband, following the trail of well-defined muscle he'd practically memorized by staring at during the summers they'd gone to the beach.

"Lemme show you, bro." He maneuvered around the door and into the backseat, using the fingers he'd hooked in Rome's pants to get them both inside.

He pushed Rome up against the opposite door and crawled inside, shutting his door behind him. This was going to be tight—he grinned, _just the way I like it_—but this wasn't the first he'd done this, and he was flexible, so they'd manage.

Rome was looking a little panicked, so he kept eye contact and let his hands do the walking. Down over Rome's stomach, flat, well-toned; he could feel Rome's pulse beating, and it got him hot, knowing the effect he was having. Lower, down to his waistband, undoing the buckle on already loose shorts. He wanted to lean forward, to bite Rome's lips—God, he couldn't count on two hands the amount of times he'd jerked off, imagining those lips wrapped around his dick—but he held off, knowing that if he rushed things now, it could all fall apart before the real fun started.

And watching Rome squirm as Brian palmed him through his shorts was a _hell_ of a lot of fun.

He slid the khaki shorts off slowly, slowly, wanting to savor every second of this—who knew if Rome would even talk to him tomorrow?—and unwilling to hurry. He heard some sort of low, half-whimpering sound at the sight of Rome's hard dick, and was too fucking horny to care when he realized that it was him.

Bracing his hands on Rome's hips, he took it in his mouth fast and tight, his own cock twitching in response when Rome groaned and arched up to meet him. Fantasies he'd worn out by playing on repeat in his mind and reality began to blur, as he tongued the head of Rome's cock and tasted heat and actually _felt_ the vibrations of Rome's low and protracted groans in his throat.

And then Rome started talking, and he was lost, lost and burning up and fucking _dying_ because nothing ever sounded so hot as that voice wanting him.

"Shit, Bri… shit, that feels good… yeah, that, right there…"

Brian slid a hand up, scratching along the inside of Rome's thighs, closing his lips tighter now that he was getting to know the shape of Rome's cock.

"…God, yeah, right there, just like that… so fucking _tight_, Bri, I can't believe how fucking tight it is… can't take much more… it's good, Bri, it's so good…"

His other hand traced circles on Rome's hips, his stomach, his lower back—swirling around and around, and passing down until he cupped Rome's ass, gripping it and helping Rome rock his hips higher to keep the rhythm. Still scratching up Rome's thighs, he moaned around Rome's cock when Rome's legs spread for him, pushing him half off the seat but giving him so much more access to touch Rome all over.

When he felt Rome get close, hell, heard him get close—"Jesus, oh Jesus motherfuckin' Christ, Bri, you're fuckin' killin' me"—he slid his mouth off Rome's cock with a brief second of regret but quickly replaced it with his hand. Sitting up, he took his own cock in the other hand, jerking hard and fast to catch up, and watching Rome—spread out against the seat, legs wide, hands gripped like claws against the leather, his bottom lip red from being bitten so hard, chest heaving—Brian was there in no time at all.

"You like that?" Brian asked, curling his thumb up and around as he thrust his hand down along Rome's length, slick with precome and from his mouth.

Rome's lips parted, but no sound came out, his eyelids fluttering, and that was enough for Brian, that was all he could fucking take, and he came with white spots against the back of his eyes, joints creaking tight and wild cries ripping through his throat as he shot against the backseat. His hand trembled on Rome's dick as he fell apart, but he kept going, kept going until he heard a choked, "_Fuck_, Bri," and felt Rome come in his hand.

"I love playing for both teams," he mumbled nonsensically when he could use his mouth again, laughing and climbing up to rest his head on Rome's chest, not even bothering to pull up their shorts or clean off. Whatever was going to happen next—which wouldn't be for a few hours, at least, judging from the way Rome's eyes were now cemented closed and his breathing was bordering on just this side of snoring—Brian didn't care. Because he had right now, Rome's skin hot underneath his palm, smelling sex and sweat and that fucking deodorant Rome wore that smelled like cheap cologne, and he really couldn't imagine anything better.


End file.
